Luck & Misadventures
by JaimeJabs
Summary: Seven stories about Harry's brand of luck. Stories take place in the same universe but may not be chronologically aligned. Updates will be sporadical and uneven.


"Hey, Hermione. How are you?"

"Harry? What's going on? You never call me on the phone. And where are you calling me from? Are you back in Britain?"

"Yes, I am. I had to cut my trip short. Well- The thing is- Okay, I can't explain this on the phone. Can you stop by the Grimmauld place?"

"What's going on, Harry? Are you in trouble?"

Hermione heard loud voices in a foreign language on the other side of the phone, her interest in whatever Harry had gotten himself into rising even more.

"No. No, I'm not in... Okay, I might be. I'm not sure. When will you be here?"

"I need to go to the ministry first but I'll be there in half an hour, an hour tops."

"Okay, please hurry."

Hermione changed out of pyjamas, throwing on the first t-shirt and jeans she found and hurrying out the door with a barely a word to her parents.

It had been thirteen months since The Incident and since she last saw her green-eyed friend. The Incident, with caps, was a very public and very heated break up between Ginny and Harry in a popular restaurant. From what Hermione could piece together from accounts from both sides and witnesses, which there were many, it started out when Harry mentioned Neville and Hannah's recent engagement. It ended with five people in hospital and thousands of galleons in property damage.

Looking back, Hermione could see the cracks in their relationship as early as a month after the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry had wanted to seclude himself, Ginny revelled in the spotlight. Harry had been fighting an existential crisis, Ginny had been all laughs and jokes. Harry yearned for freedom, Ginny wanted to tie the knot. As they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

It was the stubbornness that carried their relationship for two-and-a-half years, not love. Oh, they loved each other, Hermione was sure. But they weren't compatible. Like she and Ron weren't compatible. Like almost every other couple who continued to date after graduating from Hogwarts.

Hermione apparated out of the back garden of her parents' three-storey house, to a secluded alley near the restroom one of the ministry entrances was in. She still had trouble believing she had to flush herself down a toilet to get to work.

As the awkward sensation of being flushed down a toilet and ending up in a lit fireplace passed, the famous witch hurried past the security and stepped on an elevator. After another awkward use of magical transportation, she dashed into her office to drop a few files and collect others before rushing to her bosses office. All the while ignoring everyone running around.

"Come in, Granger. Just the woman I wanted to see," said Gawain Robards, not even glancing up from the parchment he was working on.

"I need to take the day off," she said, cutting right to it. From her experience with the gruff man, she knew niceties weren't welcome.

Robards leaned back on his chair and folded his hands "Hermione, today is the worst day for a requesting a day off. The whole ministry is up in arms about the biggest backlash of magic due to an unauthorised international apparition ever recorded. I need all hands on-"

"Harry is back."

And that was that. Even after three years, mentioning Harry Potter could silence people. He was now, after being away from the public eye for over eight months, an even bigger figure than Dumbledore was in his prime. Especially after the full account of the adventures of 'golden trio' leaked out to the press by Ginny in a convoluted attempt at getting Harry back.

And frankly, Hermione had learnt to sympathise with public's adoration of Harry. Oh, she had always admired Harry and his strength of character but she hadn't found him on a par with Dumbledore like the public was wont to do. Maybe they hadn't understood the magnitude of the things they did at the time because they were in the centre of every plot there is. But the naked truth was Harry had almost single-handedly delayed Voldemort's return for four years, fighting many creatures of nightmares as well.

So, Robards had shooed him out, ordering her to do whatever it took to convince Harry to return to DMLE, even if she had to promise him Robards' own job. "Retirement sounds fantastic as of late," he had said.

Hermione navigated her way out of the ministry and apparated to a park nearby Grimmauld place. She ran to the old, derelict house, unable to hold her excitement and nervousness at seeing her friend after so long.

Hermione didn't even knock on the door, barging in and setting off the crazy portrait. She was halfway to the kitchen when she heard the voices, one of them obviously belonging to Harry. The other belonged to a female, and that's all Hermione could tell. They weren't speaking in English or any other language she knew.

She took a deep breath and raised her fist to knock on the kitchen door but it opened before she could. There he stood, Harry Potter, looking nothing like she remembered him. He had filled up in his time away, toned muscles obvious from his tight shirt, and even gained about two inches in height, now towering over Hermione. Gone were his signature glasses, stylish rimless glasses sat over his nose in their stead.

Oh, and he had a handprint on his cheek, at the same spot he had a handprint on eight months prior. Hermione stood frozen for a long moment before she snickered, causing Harry to scowl. "Gee, Hermione, I missed you too."

"Sorry," Hermione said, still snickering, not sorry at all. "Still have a way with ladies, I see," she mocked, stepping forward to give her friend a patented Hermione hug.

The green-eyed man grinned, scratching the back of his head. "You know me, Hermione. I like my women crying or mad; I wouldn't have it any other way."

The brown-eyed woman stood to attention, eyes wide in surprise. "Your woman?"

"Oh, right," the man said, shifting to allow Hermione to see inside the kitchen. "Hermione, I'd like you to meet Luana Ornela Armendariz Mendez, my wife."

Hermione spluttered in shock, turning her wide eyes to a gorgeous woman with long black hair and a tan to die for. She stood in the middle of the kitchen with a mad expression on her pretty face, her arms crossed, glaring at Harry. "Your wife?" Hermione wheezed out, unable to comprehend.

"Yeah, funny story that," the raven-haired man began but his wife cut him off, speaking in a rapid-fire fashion.

Though Hermione couldn't understand a word she said, she imagined it involved more than a few curses. "What language is that?"

"Aymaran," Harry answered before he turned to his... wife to placate the woman.

Seeing as the happy couple wasn't paying her any attention, Hermione walked the short way to the kitchen table and sat heavily, her mind running a mile a minute to figure out what was going on. "Not to get in the middle of... whatever this is but what's going on, Harry? Since when are you married?"

Harry said one last word in Aymaran before turning his attention to his best friend. "Since last night, I think."

"You think? What did you do? Got drunk in Vegas and thought it would be a good idea to get married in a drive-through chapel?"

Harry palmed his hair in frustration and sat next to her, turning his back on his wife. That turned out to be a mistake as the woman answered this slight by her husband by throwing a glass at his head. Thankfully, Harry still had the reflexes of an excellent seeker and snatched the glass out of the air, turning a glare at the woman. His shoulders sagged as he spoke, "After I left England, I started my world tour with Europe, starting by visiting Gabrielle in France. From there, I went to Germany, Italy, Switzerland, then visited Viktor in Bulgaria. I kept going east, Greece, Turkey, Iran."

"I spent a few months in Asia and Africa, taking my time to take in the different cultures and different takes on magic. Learnt from the locals I visited and thought them a few tricks myself. Two months back, I ran into a little trouble with an African warlord. The bastard liked to kidnap children and use them as soldiers, you see. I accidentally decimated a small battalion of his and he took offence. He confronted me."

Hermione couldn't hide the smile at that. Leave it to Harry to get in trouble with a warlord.

"After that, I had enough of Africa and decided to hit America. I started on the north; Canada, States, then Mexico and continued south. Reached Peru a month ago. It is a lovely country with a large magical population and an amazing culture." He took a deep breath and leaned back before continuing. "Anyway, a week ago, I came across this little Peruvian village, the name of which I still can't pronounce. The population magical."

"Now, before I go any further, I want you to understand, I can still barely speak Amarayan and I was even worse a week ago. So, when they mentioned the trouble they had with a big snake, I figured how hard could convincing a snake to leave these nice people alone be?"

Hermione sighed but said nothing to her selfless friend.

"It's worse than you think. Remember that little basilisk I killed a few years back?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Gee, I don't know, Harry. You killed so many of those killing machines, I don't know which one you are referring to."

"Hey, now. No need to get sarcastic. That's my area of speciality."

She shook her head and said, "No, I'm pretty sure your area of speciality is getting in trouble. Then you come to me to get you out of it."

"I double majored," Harry joked, earning a small smile. "Anyway, back to my story. Well, I assumed it couldn't be any worse than a basilisk, right?" Harry waited for a breath before answering himself, "Wrong. This 'big' snake was over a hundred and fifty feet long. Yacumama, they called it. It had similar characteristics to a horned serpent, like a giant horn on its head."

"Two days into my stay in the village, five gentlemen and I left to hunt for food. We ran into this lovely monster. I tried talking to it, it went berserk. Lost two men before we could escape."

He drew a shaky breath. "I considered leaving the village but I couldn't just leave these people to their fate when I could help. I thought about coming here for the Sword of Gryffindor but before I could, a friend of ours showed up." Harry grinned at Hermione's surprised look. "Yep, Luna freaking Lovegood. She had with her a fellow zoologist, Ralf Scamander."

"Scamander? Wasn't Newt Scamander the writer of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?" Hermione asked.

"Yep. He's Newt's grandson. Nice boy, shy and quirky. He and Luna are perfect for each other. Anyway, according to Luna, Yacumama had skin far more resistant to magic than a basilisk or a dragon. There was some sort of protective film around its eyes, which meant I couldn't blind it."

"First, we tried poisoning it by injecting a cow and sending the cow its way. Didn't work. Luna had a theory, that if we can somehow separate its horn from its body, the resulting injury would be a weakness we could exploit."

Harry laughed. "It worked. I did the stupid thing. I walked to the snake, cast a massively overpowered cutting curse and divested it of its horn. As the snake was thrashing around in pain, I hit the injury with the same spell Lockhart used on my arm back in ninety-two. Now, normally, loss of its skeletal system wouldn't kill a snake but this one's head was over seventy feet in the air. The momentum of his thrashing carried the head and without a skeletal system, the bastard's muscles were practically useless so it head-butted a giant boulder. No skull, no protection for the brain and the nervous system, instant death."

Hermione listened to the tale wide-eyed, gasping at the right moments. "So you managed the impossible again and saved a bunch of innocents," she summarised. "That's great, Harry, but why don't you get to the point?"

Smiling at his impatient friend, Harry did just that. "The villagers insisted on throwing a feast in my honour. They had food, thanks to this little snake I killed," he sent her a wink. "They had alcohol, they had music. The feast started three days ago. I woke up this morning with this lovely," he pointed a thumb at the tanned woman who was still scowling, "Wrapped all around me, claiming to be my wife."

Hermione's eyes almost popped out of her skull, she was so surprised. "So, you actually pulled a drunk tourist in Vegas? You married her while you were drunk?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I remember meeting her, flirting with her, drinking wine with her and bedding her but I don't remember saying I do. And I would remember, I don't black out when I'm drunk."

"Then how..."

"That's what I need your help with. When I asked her, she mentioned a cultural ceremony where the woman offers the man a weapon and the man shares food and wine with the woman. It involves a bunch of other things. Well, she did give me a knife, and we did eat together. I need you to find out if I'm married; if it's binding; and how I can get out of it."

"And you need my ministry connections for that," Hermione said, nodding along. "Fine, I'll look into it but if you got married last night..." she trailed off. "Wait, if you woke up halfway around the world this morning, how are you here now? You couldn't arrange a portkey that..." she trailed off again, this time due to his friend's nervous blush. "Harry, tell me you didn't! Tell me you didn't apparate across the world!"

Harry raised his arm in a defensive move. "I freaked out. When I said we weren't married, Luana, here," he repeated his pointing motion from earlier, earning an angry growl from the woman. "Came at me with a knife. She latched on to me as I apparated so she came along for the ride."

Hermione sighed again and massaged her temples to fight an oncoming headache. "Leaving the impossibility of THAT apparition aside, do you realise just how many laws you broke?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "The ministry is up in arms about that, trying to figure out what could cause such a backlash and who."

"Sorry?" Harry apologised unsurely, ducking his head, smiling cutely. "Will you help me?"

Hermione considered saying no, but she knew she could never say no to him. Not to Harry. Ever. "You owe me, Potter."

"Whatever you want is yours," Harry said without a wait.

Hermione returned to the house same evening, looking tired and angry, to find Harry and his wife sitting across from each other on the table, glaring at each other. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Leave the jokes to the comedians, Hermione, please," Harry groaned, putting his head in his hands. "So, how was work, dear?"

Hermione threw herself on a chair near Harry and as far away from the angry latino as possible. "Wonderful. This jerk thought intercontinental apparition was a swell idea, so I had to smooth things over for him. Shack says you owe the ministry fifteen thousand galleons for the repair of all the instruments your little stunt broke. Otherwise, you are fine, legally speaking."

"Tell him to put it in my tab," Harry joked, his head still hidden behind his hands, before looking up, all serious. "What about my dear wife?"

"I asked around and the Department of International Cooperation gave me a few books on South American customs. They also sent a missive to the South American Confederation, but they said it would take at least a week before they get a response. We have to figure it out ourselves from the books."

Harry groaned and hit his head on the table. "Just my luck."

"Hey, at least she's pretty," Hermione joked to bring levity to the room.

Harry smiled and winked, "Can't argue with that. She's also great in bed. She does this thing with her tongue-"

Hermione put her hands on her ears and yelled, "I don't need the details."

He pouted cutely and huffed. "I miss Ron. He'd pester me until I tell him all the details."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Really? So, he liked to hear the details of your sex life with her sister?"

"Well, no. Though I assumed he would have if she weren't her sister," he answered. A moment later, his eyes widened. "Oh, shit! Ginny will kill me if she hears about this."

Hermione, upset for reasons she couldn't comprehend, asked, "So you were planning on getting back with her?"

Harry shook his head so fast, the bushy-haired girl feared he would break his neck. "Hell, no. That relationship was toxic. But after breaking up with her because of our difference of opinion on marriage, she's bound to let out her crazy side to play."

"And why are you so against marriage?" Hermione asked without thinking. "I assumed you wanted to get married, have lots of children. You know, the Weasley style."

Harry nodded, "I did. I do. But can you honestly say I am ready for marriage after the life I led? Ginny was the only real relationship I had so far, and we both know calling it a relationship is generous. It was a long series of breakups and makeup sex." He shook his head sadly. "I want a family one day, but I need to learn to what kind of man I am before I can be a good husband and father."

Hermione smiled kindly at her broken friend. "Harry, you are going to be a wonderful father one day," she said softly, putting a hand on his.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but a knife that missed their linked hands by inches caused both to turn to the forgotten third person in the room. Luana stood with a fuming expression on her face and started on a long rant Hermione had no hope of understanding. Neither did Harry, Hermione realised as she glanced at the cross-eyed look on her friend's face.

He tried to placate the woman with soothing words though. It took ten tense minutes for the woman to calm down enough, and she left with Harry.

The hero of Britain returned a few minutes later, his clothes ruffled and hair messier than normal. "Sorry 'bout that. It seems I have a thing for violent women."

Hermione fought the lump that formed around her throat and asked, "What happened?"

"Well, the wife was mad at me for flirting with another woman in front of her. Said if I want to chase other tails, I could do it away from her," Harry explained with a shrug. "Couldn't bother explaining so I showed her to a room she could sleep in. She wanted a goodnight kiss. I didn't." He pointed at his dishevelled state. "She really wanted a kiss, it seems."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh at his friend's shaken up state or rant at him for his irresponsible behaviour. She ended up choking in a mixture of two. "Whatever. Let's get started on the books," Hermione said curtly.

Harry raised an eyebrow and put a hand on her arm to stop her from reaching to her bag. "Why don't we get dinner first? My troubles can wait for a few hours. I missed my friend and want to hear about what's going on in her life," he said.

"You would know if you'd bothered to give me a way to contact you," Hermione snapped.

She had understood why Harry left. Hell, she had wanted to go with him but her commitment to her work kept her here. Before he had left, she had made him promise to write to her at least once a month. He kept that promise.

The problem she hadn't foreseen was writing back to him. After almost ten years of growing up together, Hermione had a hard time adjusting to a life without Harry, especially not being able to share her life with him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, blushing. "I missed you too. So damn much."

Harry looked at his friend with a small smile and hugged her. She hugged back, her hands fisting his t-shirt, and sniffed, taking in his scent she hadn't realised she missed so much. "But I did leave you a way to get in touch with me, Hermione," Harry said as they broke apart after five minutes. "You have Sirius' mirror, remember?"

Hermione groaned and blushed. "I forgot about that," she confessed. "Why didn't you remind me?" she asked, her eyes narrow.

"I assumed you had your reasons for not calling me. I thought about calling you with it but the time difference always got in the way," he explained. "Anyway, what's done is done. Let's go get dinner. How about Rampaging Hippogriffs?"

Hermione shook her head. "No way. After the devastation your breakup with Ginny left there, you can't go there alone with another woman."

"Right," Harry said, scratching his head as they walked arm in arm to the door of the house. "I forgot about that one."

"Why don't we find a Muggle establishment? No need to announce your return to everyone in the magical side yet. When the news gets out you are back, they won't leave you alone, you know."

Harry looked at Hermione oddly, his head cocked to a side. "What are you talking about? It wasn't so bad when I left."

Hermione's step faltered in surprise, looking at her friend with confusion all over her face. "Of course, it wasn't. The story wasn't out yet, remember?"

Harry stopped altogether, gripping Hermione's arm to stop her. "What story?"

"You haven't heard?" she asked, then answered herself, "Right, you couldn't have. You were long gone by then. I just assumed you would hear."

"Haven't heard what, Hermione? I'm beginning to suspect you are about to give me some bad news and I want you to be clear when you explain why I can't step foot in magical Britain without being hounded."

Hermione gulped, realising how the changes in his body added a sense of danger that wasn't there to Harry when he's angry. "Well, this happened a week after you left. Someone leaked all of our misadventures at Hogwarts to the press. The whole shindig," she explained. "It was accurate. And I mean accurate. The stories were so detailed, it had to be one of us or someone very close to us."

Hermione saw the realisation set in Harry's face. "Like Ginny."

The brown-eyed witch nodded. "She explained it as some clever ploy to get you back. She knew how much you hated your fame. It was her way of making sure you were even more famous so you would stay away from other girls because they'd be after you for your fame. She eliminated the competition in a way."

"That fucking bitch! I'm going to... I'm going to... I have no idea what I will do but when I'm finished with her, she'll wish she hadn't destroyed my life!"

Hermione put a restraining hand on Harry's arm when it looked like he would start on his brilliant revenge plan right away. "Harry, calm down before you do something you'll regret," she pleaded.

Harry turned to her with furious eyes. "Don't you dare protect that moronic psycho!"

"I'm not!" Hermione yelled back, now getting angry as well. She took a calming breath and spoke again," I won't, Harry. What she did was wrong and you have every right to be mad but going there angry won't do you any good."

Harry breathed in and out deeply, his eyes closed, and Hermione watched tension bleed out of his body. "Sorry," he said without opening his eyes. "Just give it to me. How bad is it?"

"Well, you are more famous and revered than Dumbledore ever was. Frankly, you are looking to dethrone Merlin as the greatest wizard ever."

Harry opened his eyes in shock and exclaimed, "Fuck me! No, fuck Ginny." He played with his hair as he thought. "Okay, I get why our 'misadventures', as you put it, would fuel my fame even further but more revered than Dumbledore? Really?"

Hermione smiled at her friend's discomfort, liking how much stayed the same even as everything changed. "To be honest, I can understand why they would think so," she said. "Think about it. You stopped Voldemort as a baby, then as an eleven-year-old and again as a twelve-year-old and killed a basilisk, saving Hogwarts. You fought off a hundred Dementors, saving an innocent man's life from an incompetent government. You won the Triwizard Tournament and fought off Voldemort time and time again, ultimately defeating him half an hour after you died. While Dumbledore did great things, including defeating another dark lord, he never could get the upper hand against Voldemort. You did that at least four times before you were eighteen."

"Yeah, but I had help," Harry argued weakly. "I couldn't get past the traps without you and Ron's help. It was you who figured out the basilisk, and it was Ron who cleared the way for us in the chamber. Crouch Jr. helped me win the Triwizard, and I barely escaped alive from the graveyard. Every instance you mentioned, I had help."

Hermione nodded, taking a step toward her friend. "You did. I helped you. So did Ron and Luna and Neville and Ginny and Dumbledore and so many others. The thing is, Dumbledore had help too. Yet, he lost both wars," Hermione explained. "Look at it this way, do you think I could have survived against Voldemort? Or Ron? Your and Neville's parents were famous because they survived against him three times. The only one to survive more was Dumbledore. You, not only survived all the time against him, but you defeated him more often than not."

Harry gulped at the passion in Hermione's eyes as she spoke. "You sound like a fan," he joked, but it felt flat.

"I am," Hermione announced with an agreeing nod. "I understand you don't like your fame and you want to be normal, Harry, but you ARE extraordinary. You'll just have to learn to live with it."

Harry said nothing, searching Hermione's eyes for something. He must have found it because he took a step forward and closed the distance even more. She could feel his breath displace her hair and the charge around them as his head lowered. She couldn't move, couldn't even think.

Thankfully, or not, the door of the house banged open before anything could happen, an angry Ginny Weasley standing on the other side. Hermione felt Harry tense under her arms and wondered when her arms found their way around his neck. The redhead took in the scene in a single glance before focusing her attention on Harry. "Harry Potter," she hissed. "How dare you leave without telling me, spend months away, and come back without telling me! And now I see you in this position with- with her!"

"Just the woman I wanted to meet," Harry snarled, his voice filled with venom, his anger from before returning with a vengeance. He stepped out of Hermione's embrace, stalking towards the redhead. "The woman who shared my life's story with the press. Come in, Ginny, and let me thank you for your treachery."

Ginny's anger faltered, replaced with fear in the face of Harry's new presence. "Harry, dear, I-"

"Don't you dare call me dear! Hell, don't you dare call me Harry! Only my friends call me that and you, bitch, are most certainly not one of them!"

Hermione was getting nervous, because this Harry didn't sound, or feel, like the Harry she knew. She feared Harry would do something, like kill the redhead in anger, and she didn't want that.

"Don't say that," Ginny begged, her voice almost a whisper and her head dropping.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when before Harry could close the distance enough to strangle the meek girl, as Hermione assumed he would, his wife walked downstairs. A string of unfamiliar words poured out of her mouth, stopping Harry in his tracks and causing him to curse.

"Who is that?" Ginny asked, emboldened now that Harry wasn't looking like he would kill her.

Hermione couldn't see the green-eyed wizard's face but she heard his smile in his voice when he spoke," Ginny, say hello to my wife, Luana." He turned around and winked at Hermione before turning his attention to Luana and explaining the situation to the sleepy woman, or the brown-eyed woman assumed.

When Harry finished speaking, Luana looked mad, which was her default mood Hermione suspected, but she sensed an undercurrent of amusement. She hurried the distance between herself and Harry and draped herself all over the surprised and, after a few whispered words, amused wizard.

Ginny, meanwhile, was reddening in anger, looking like blood was pouring out of her freckles. "What do you mean your wife?" she asked in a deceptively toneless voice.

"I saved her from a giant snake, even bigger than the basilisk I saved you from. I was all heroic and manly and she was oh-so-grateful," Harry summarised, falsely, in a mocking tone.

"You told me you didn't want to get married," Ginny said, crocodile tears wetting her cheeks.

Harry shrugged, his voice uncaring, "I thought so at the time. Then again, maybe it was you I didn't want to marry."

Damn, Hermione thought as she watched the unfolding drama from sidelines, that was harsh.

The next time Harry spoke, his voice was harsh and cold, "Leave, Ginny. And make sure I see a little of your face. I'd hate to leave Luana behind by going to Azkaban for murder."

The redhead did so but not before pouting cutely, trying her luck with a puppy-eyes. Suffice it to say it didn't work.

As soon as his ex-girlfriend left, Harry jumped out of Luana's seductive embrace and chuckled a few words at the foreign woman. The woman barked back a few words, laughed and climbed upstairs.

"Well, that was fun," Harry said as he flicked off the dust that didn't exist from his shoulder, grinning. "Now, where were we?"

If she had the courage, Hermione's answer would be different. "We were on our way to a restaurant."

Harry stepped forward and bowed, offering his hand, "Milady, if you'd do me the honour."

Hermione took Harry's offered hand with a giggle that was decidedly un-Hermione-like, which was why she blushed right after.

"You look cute when you blush like a schoolgirl on a date," Harry commented offhandedly.

"I do not," Hermione said indignantly.

"You don't look cute?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow as they stepped outside the dreadful house.

"No- Well, I might. I wouldn't know," Hermione stammered, unsure how to respond. "What I meant was, I don't blush like a schoolgirl."

Harry laughed and dropped her hand, causing Hermione to pout until he placed it on her shoulder, hugging her to him. "And what would you call that pink tinge on your cheeks?"

"An involuntary reaction from my treacherous body," she answered with a lift of her nose. "Shut up," she ordered when he laughed again.

His arms tightened around her shoulders. "I missed this. I missed you."

"Then don't leave again," Hermione blurted before she could stop herself, her blush increasing tenfold.

"Maybe I shouldn't. I can't seem to stay out of trouble without you there to leash me."

"You changed," Hermione commented, glancing up, trusting Harry to lead the way. "You are more confident, more self-assured and scarier."

"It's this trip I took. I feel rejuvenated and free like I've been tried and passed and now, I can live my life. It was good to step out to the unknown and face the days as they came with no plan for the next day other than to wake up."

"Then I'm glad you left."

"Yeah, if only I could come back without the baggage," Harry snorted.

"Don't say that. She's a person, not a thing to throw out," Hermione admonished. "But, yeah. If only you were smart enough not to get married without realising."

"Enough about my problems and character development. Tell me about yourself. Any boys I need to know of and need to scare off?" he asked, poking her.

Hermione slapped the offending hand away before answering, "No. After Ron, I tried dating a few guys. I went on a few dates with Ernie, didn't click. Tried dating Justin but-"

"Not him," Harry groaned. "I can't stand that smug bastard."

"He's not that bad," she defended. "Okay, maybe he is. That's why it didn't work out anyway," she relented when Harry snorted. "After a few failures, I turned my focus on my career and not to worry about finding me lone self a boyfriend," she said, finishing with a failed Irish imitation.

"You'll find someone," Harry reassured. "You are a beautiful young woman with the most amazing mind and moral centre I've seen. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

"You sound like you want a piece of me yourself, Mr. Potter," Hermione teased, her heart beating in her chest, finding this new, flirtatious, side of their friendship exciting.  
"Soon as I free myself from the old ball in chains," Harry promised/teased her back. "How about work? You are still working to improve the life quality of house-elves I assume?"

"I transferred to DMLE to work as a prosecutor. We made headway while I was working in Magical Creatures but, even with the popularity I have after the war, I kept getting stonewalled by the ancients in the parliament. I need to improve my standing in the government before I can make a real change."

"You'll succeed, eventually. You, Miss Granger, will change the world, make it a better place. I know it. And I will be right there next to you when you do, the proud sidekick," Harry explained grandly. "Nothing can stop you once you put your mind to something. Believe me, I tried. You are too stubborn and mule-headed," he quipped, lessening the emotional discharge.

Hermione slapped Harry's belly in response, surprised by the hardness even though she didn't show it. "Prat."

"Italian?"

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Would you like to eat Italian?" Harry asked, pointing at a small restaurant a little ahead.

"Sure, I could do with some tortellini en brodo," Hermione agreed.

"I wouldn't know about all that fancy shit. You'll have to order for me."

"Don't be so crude, Harry. It doesn't suit you," Hermione admonished.

"Okay, dear. As you say, dear."

"So," Harry began after they found seats in a corner booth. "You transferred to DMLE. Is Robards still running the place?"

"Yes, and he sends his regards. He ordered me to do whatever it takes to convince you to return."

Harry smiled smugly, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. "And just what does 'whatever it takes' include? Are you going to seduce me into staying, you minx, you?"

"In your dreams, Potter," Hermione laughed, taking a sip of water to hide her blush.

"Oh, honey, my dreams would make you run away. I have a livid and dirty imagination," Harry shot back, grinning devilishly, making Hermione's heart flutter.

The smartest witch of her age cleared her throat. "Well, he told me the whatever it takes includes his job," Hermione said. "Head Auror Potter," she added, her voice low and throaty, surprising even herself.

"Well," Harry croaked and tried again, "Well, the position sounds appealing and I'm sure I'd enjoy working on top of you."

Hermione snorted at the absurdity of the moment, asking, "What are we doing?"

"No idea but I'm liking it," Harry answered, giving a carefree smile that wouldn't have graced his face eight months ago. "So, a prosecutor, eh? I imagine you do well at it. You are smart and passionate enough."

"Yeah," Hermione nodded. "It is rewarding and pays well. Besides, it's a stepping stone."

"I'm sure it is," Harry agreed. "My girl will be the Minister of Magic."

"I'll need a good sidekick," Hermione laughed.

"I'll be your Chief of Staff. Scare away the opposition and pay the right people, the dirty work," Harry said with a wink. They stopped talking as the waitress came to get their orders. As promised, Hermione ordered for both, earning a raised eyebrow from the buxom girl. "So, how are the gang? The Weasleys and the Longbottoms?"  
"They are good. Ron quit the MLE after you left, works with George now. Ginny is still flying with Harpies. Fleur is pregnant so Bill is freaking out. Charlie is in Romania as usual. Molly cooks. Percy found himself a girl, a brunette named Audrey. Nice enough girl, I suppose," Hermione summarised. "Neville and Hannah have their wedding coming up this month so I expect you to stay for that."

"I probably will. Had enough adventures to last me for a few years, wouldn't you agree?" Harry asked. "I'll need a date for the wedding."

"Are you asking me?" Hermione asked after a moment, not knowing what she wanted his answer to be.

"Depends on whether I can get rid of the wife, but why not?" Harry asked, leaning back to allow the waitress to serve their wine. After a long moment of silence as they both digested where the conversation took them, Harry asked, "Why have we never dated?"

Hermione froze with his glass raised to her lips, eyes widening and cheeks blushing. "I didn't realise you were interested."

"Didn't know I was. Did you ever consider it? Me as a boyfriend?"

Hermione put her glass down and considered Harry seriously. "I did," she confessed with a nod.

"And?" Harry probed, his head cocked to a side, his eyes focused on Hermione.

She gripped the table, searching for the words. "You and Ron were the only two 'male' friends I had, the only viable partners. You never showed interest, so I went with Ron." She gulped down the lump that formed around her throat. "That sounded awful. Not that I considered Ron a consolation prize. You just didn't seem interested enough for me to seriously consider," she tried again, this time feeling more confident she explained herself right.

"Makes sense. I always was a self-centred person. Was hard not to be when our side of the world revolved around me. You'll realise, both my attempts at relationship back then started when the other side made a move. I didn't have the focus or the drive to start a relationship." Harry took a large sip of the wine as he waited for the waitress to serve their food, holding Hermione's gaze.

"I like this new you," Hermione confessed after the waitress left.

"Thanks, I like me too." Harry slurped a long spaghetti, making as much sound as possible.

"You know what I mean. You are happier, more carefree... more you. Like the constant dark clouds you had, the brooding, are all gone and only pure Harry is left."

Harry smiled a crooked smile, taking a sip of his wine and playing with the glass. "Admit it, you find me irresistible right now."

Blood rushed to Hermione's face once again, lighting her up like a dichromatic Christmas tree. "I wouldn't if you would wipe that damn smirk off your face." She dropped her eyes at her food, taking a long bite and moaning at the taste.  
"Don't go making lewd sounds on me. I might be a married man but I am a man," Harry complained, taking another long sip of wine in search of respite.

"Now who finds who irresistible?" Hermione quipped, pleased with Harry's reaction.

"Oh, you won't hear me deny, Miss Granger. If I didn't have a pissed off woman who is mighty good with a knife at home, I'd bed you." Harry was an honest man. If asked, he would admit to enjoying Hermione's choke. Even if he were to lie, his grin would give him away.

Hermione cleared her throat, both to gather her wits and clear the food. "Anyway, what were we talking about?"

"You were telling me about how everyone was doing," Harry answered, his self-satisfied face chipping away at Hermione's nerves.

"Well, that's all I had. Things are calm on this side of the pond. Tell me about your adventures."

Harry took a big enough bite of his spaghetti bolognese to make Ron stand up and take notice as he considered what story to tell. "I was in Turkey, at a bazaar in Istanbul that catered to our sort of folk, browsing the knick-knacks, looking for anything interesting. A young boy, around eight or nine, ran past me, making me lose my balance and fall. Now, normally, I'd shake my head at the disrespect of today's youth and go on with my day," Harry recounted, winking at Hermione when she snickered. "But I felt him lift my pouch. Now, again, normally, I'd let it go. What's few galleons to a man of my statute, after all? But this particular pouch the young brat stole had a particular item of importance. A book left behind by our own Rowena Ravenclaw."

That book, Hermione decided she had to read. Her eyes sparkled in excitement, making Harry laugh at the predictability of his friend.

"I know. Found it in Albania, near the forest our friend, Tom, used to frequent. Found one of his stashes in an old, worn down cabin in the woods. Anyway, I took after the kid, chasing him all over the city. The bazaar was in Eminonu, I caught up with the boy in Besiktas. The bastard sure knew how to run. I cornered him in a secluded alley." Harry nodded at his friend's realisation. "Yup. It was a trap, alright. Nothing nefarious, I assure you. Some folk heard about me through some other folk. They wanted to meet me, rob me, teach me what's what. They dealt with narcotics of the fun kind. The boy was a runner for them."

"Ten of them cornered me, posturing like the deed was done. After they were all out, I decided to take a look around their possessions, see if I can find anything useful." Harry grinned at his friend's surprised look. "Yeah, in my travels, I found that those who go to all this trouble for a pay cheque have all manner of useful things lying around on their persons. Wouldn't believe what I found on the lowlives."

"What?" Hermione asked, intrigued and excited. This was the second time she ever listened to Harry tell a story and enjoyed it immensely.

"A portatif pensive. Nothing fancy. Holds an hour of memories at most and can't handle more than two people at a time but it's damn useful, it is."

Hermione shook her head. "There is no such a thing as a portatif pensive."

"Wouldn't think so, would you? Turns out, the Turkish has been working on a prototype for years. The bastards intercepted a carrier. Anyway, I take my new friends to the Palatials, the Turkish version of our Aurors. Derived from the old palace guards back when they were an empire. Got me a nice reward, a few days in this wonderful spa resort in Yalova. The spa specialised in this massaging technique where these barely clothed girls did wonders for my muscles."

Hermione didn't know what say. She had a million and one questions and the mention of him getting rubbed down from naked women fogged her brain.

"Don't worry," Harry teased. "They promised to send me a pensive when they start production." He turned back to his cooler food, still liking it. "Won't hurt to have a working relationship with them when you make it to the top. The Muggle side of their country is still reeling in from the consecutive military coups but the magical side is strong and stable. Better shape than we are in after the civil war."

"Just how many of these stories you have, Harry?" Hermione asked, not sure whether she wanted more or less.

"Oh, I got a few. I made many friends around the world. Remind me to tell you about this war between two mobs in the States some time. Then there is the small matter of African Warlord, now that's a thriller."

"Your little trip sounds less like a vacation and more like a series of mishaps and lost body parts for other people," Hermione noted after finishing a bite.

"What can I say? Trouble finds me wherever I go. This world doesn't have a corner I can hide from it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, looking at Harry suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling this story was the mildest amongst a collection of unbelievable heroics and stupidity on your part?"

Harry gave Hermione another crooked smile. "Because you met me?"

"I want to hear them all."

"One story per date," Harry said with a wink. "That means if you want to listen to all the adventures I've been in since I left, you'll have to take me on a lot of dates. And I mean a lot." Harry wiggled his eyebrows in a faux-seductive dance. "It wasn't like Hogwarts, I can tell you that. If Hogwarts was a school, this was an accelerated course. Though, I did learn a lot. Not just about myself but about magic. You wouldn't believe some of the books and artefacts I found."

Hermione's eyes sparkled at the prospect of books. "Speaking of books..."  
"Yes, yes, I'll let you have a go at them once we get me out of this mess I've found myself in," Harry said with an eye roll. "But I'll want a promise you won't lose yourself in them. My ego can't handle coming second to a bunch of books."

"I'm not that bad," Hermione complained good-naturedly. "I'm not," she insisted when Harry raised an unbelieving eyebrow.

"Now, don't go mentioning these books to anyone. DoM would kill to get their hands on a few of them and people from darker shades of life would go die for them," Harry warned. "I'm serious, Hermione. They aren't dangerous or dark by themselves. Nothing of the sort. But there are a few of them that deal with the... foundations of western magic. There was a man named Piri Reis. He was an admiral of Ottoman Empire. Muggles know him as a great admiral and a cartographer. In reality, he was a wizard adventurer. I caught his trail in North Africa and followed it. It led me to an old ruin where I found a book written by a shaman of sorts. It explains the methods of astral projection and their uses in scrying. There isn't a secret on earth these methods can't uncover. It's dangerous stuff, and I won't let them fall into wrong hands."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise," Hermione said solemnly.

"Good. I entrusted them to a friend who'll send them along later. Before I left, I was working with goblins on how to rebuild the Pottery, the old Potter mansion. I was planning to include a library for yours truly." He smiled at Hermione's obvious joy. "Once the mansion is complete, and I set enough protections, you can read the books to your heart's content."

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. Anything for the know-it-all who saved my ass more than a few times," Harry joked. "Anyway, shall we call it a night? We have a long day tomorrow."

They did. And if Hermione hugged his arm tighter than usual and if they shared more than a few shy glances, neither of them said anything.

It was three days later they made headway in their search for a solution to Harry's double-breasted problem that insisted on sleeping naked, next to him. Harry was dozing off in the library after a few hours of reading boring books when Hermione barged in, shocking the sleep out of the man. She sat heavily across from him before speaking, "I have bad news and not-so-bad news. Which would you like to hear first?"

"Start with the bad news," Harry said groggily, glaring at the too energetic woman.

"Bad news is, your marriage is on the level. It was an old binding ceremony, older than even Hogwarts. Congratulations."

"I assumed we agreed on leaving comedy to comedians," Harry complained, his head between his hands. "What's the other news?"

She leaned forward, bouncing on her seat. "The binding isn't permanent. You can buy your way out."

"Explain," he ordered curtly.

Hermione blinked at his tone but ignored it for the time being. "The unspoken vows are not based on love or lasting partnership. It's based on responsibility. Your responsibility is to take care of your wife's material needs. Her responsibility is to carry your progeny and heal you when you need it. You can absolve her of the responsibility and take care of yours by ensuring she has enough money for the rest of her life."

Harry's eyes narrowed and body tensed, telling Hermione something was wrong. He snapped his wand at the door, soundproofing the room. She needn't ask; Harry spoke, "Does that sound suspicious to you? I 'accidentally' marry this girl who has seen things and knows how to fight. And now, if I want to be free of her, I must pay her."

Hermione rocked back in her chair. "You think she played you for money?"

"Wouldn't that make sense? Back in the village, I didn't see her converse with many of the villagers. It seemed odd at the moment but I chalked it up to her being an odd sort. She was a great flirt back in the village and a great lay. We wake up, she goes batshit crazy. She latches onto me as I leave. Since we arrived, her flirting became awkward and unattractive, like she wants me to see her put the effort but she doesn't want the results. There is something fishy in this marriage."

Hermione seemed doubtful but was willing to play along. "Let's say you are right. How would you go about figuring it out?"

"The goblins," Harry answered. "Few know this but the Goblin Nation doesn't just include Britain. Every goblin in the world is a part of one nation. They have vast information network and the name and blood analysis of almost every witch and wizard in the world. If I'm right, she wouldn't give me her real name. Goblins can tell us what her real name is."

Hermione shook her head. "Wouldn't do you any good. The ritual you used for the binding doesn't involve names. You are beholden to a person, not a name."

"Yes, but I'm betting there is someone out there she's conned before. My guess is she wasn't from the village I married her in. I reckon goblins tell me the information to set me free if I pay them enough." Harry grinned nastily, rubbing his hands together.

All he needs to become a comic book villain is to cackle evilly. Never mind, there it is, Hermione thought as Harry laughed. "Let me get this straight; you will pay the goblins to get out of paying this woman, whoever she is?"

"Yes," Harry agreed without a second's thought. "I don't like being played, Hermione. I'm not about to let her go unpunished. If I have to take a loss on this one, I'll make sure she'll suffer with me."

Hermione shook her head at the mess her friend was in. "So, what's the plan?"  
"I'll take her to Gringotts, have the goblins test her identification and go from there."

It was a better plan than they first thought. Turns out, Harry was right. Luana wasn't her real name, and she had made enemies. Powerful enemies. Enemies like the Goblin Nation.

Harry left Gringotts after giving the woman five thousand galleons and collecting the fifteen thousand bounty, his head held high, mighty proud of himself for bringing a criminal to justice. Though leaving her to face goblin justice left a bad aftertaste, he figured she must have been aware of the dangers when she stole from them. "As they say, don't do the crime if you can't pay the price."

Later that same day, he took Hermione out on their first date, celebrating his newfound freedom by spending his hard earned money. That same night, after a bout of sweat-inducing activities that left them both in nirvana, Harry chuckled and said, "You know, I'm glad I took her to bed."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, not letting her insecurities come out to play. "Why's that?"

"I wouldn't be here yet if it wasn't for this. I feel like this," he pointed at their dishevelled state, "is worth the trouble."

Hermione smiled at the sweetness of the comment. "Lucky you."

"Just my luck."


End file.
